Texas Angel, 2-in-1 (34 page)
“If only it were so simple.”
A slight smile twitching her lips, she said, “You will work it out, Benjamin, I am sure.”
The next morning dawned with an overcast sky threatening rain. Benjamin thought it was quite fitting because the rain had brought Elise to his home in the first place.
By ten, John and Nell Hunter had arrived to act as witnesses. Father Murphy, whom John’s eldest son had tracked down a few days earlier, arrived an hour later. He was the perfect picture of an Irish priest— short, rotund, and florid, with a faint hint of whiskey on his breath.
“I am so happy to finally be meetin’ you, Reverend Benjamin Sin-clair!" Murphy spoke with a thick Irish accent, but at least it wasn’t Spanish. Early on, the Mexican Church had seen the expediency of importing Irish priests for the purpose of ministering to the largely English-speaking Texians. Benjamin had heard these priests were often outcasts from their native Ireland and thus tended to be rather unorthodox.
If Benjamin needed nothing else right now, he certainly needed an unorthodox priest.
“I’m surprised you knew of my existence,” Benjamin replied, offering the priest a seat on the bench at his table.
Elise sat in the rocking chair with the baby. The Hunters found other makeshift seats, while the children ranged elsewhere about the house. Micah was absent because he refused to be present at the ceremony.
“Oh, sure’n! Word got around. I’m only sorry business in Mexico City prevented me from meeting you until now.” Murphy lifted his cup of tea, stared at it wistfully as if trying to imagine the cup containing something stronger, then took a sip. “The few days I’ve had to get about the circuit have indicated ye have taken very good care of things in my absence.”
Benjamin didn’t know how to take the man’s comment. If it were meant to be an insult, it was said in the best of good humor. “I hope you don’t—”
Much to Benjamin’s relief, Father Murphy broke in before he could frame a reply. He really wasn’t certain how to respond anyway.
“Don’t be takin’ it wrong, me dear Reverend!” The priest replied with expansive good nature. “I sincerely appreciate your work here.
Heaven knows these dear people were never the best of Catholics, now, were they?”
“Well . . .”
“Ah, but what am I talking of politics when there is a joyous event about to transpire?” Murphy turned a smiling face toward Elise. “Me dear, ye’ll make a lovely bride. Would ye like to tell me if ye have special requests for the nuptials?”
Elise’s eyebrows raised at this. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” Glancing at Benjamin, she added, “I suppose something traditional, don’t you think, Benjamin?”
Murphy added, “Now, as to the matter of Catholic or Protestant . . .”
“I think you should do whatever you are comfortable with, Father,” Benjamin put in. Then in response to the slack-jawed looks of the others in the room, he added, “Father Murphy has come out of his way to perform this ceremony. I would not want to make undue demands on him.”
“Well, we can eliminate the Nuptial Mass,” Murphy said. “Other than that, the vows and such are not so different from the Protestant service.”
“As long as it is legal,” Benjamin said.
“Oh, it will be that!” grinned Murphy. “Once I tie a knot, it seldom comes loose.”
The priest’s words made Elise’s stomach flip like a hotcake. They made her realize in her very soul what she’d known only intellectually until then. That which was about to transpire in an hour would be a commitment of incredible, even stunning, permanence. She intended it to be so, and she knew Benjamin also intended it. They both knew what an unstable thing permanence could be, but that did not change the intent of their hearts.
Nor did it change the way it was now wreaking havoc with Elise’s insides. For the rest of her life, should God be so kind as to will it, Benjamin Sinclair would be by her side.
Only
by her side, no more. However, she couldn’t deny that it would not exactly displease her if it became more. He was a handsome, desirable man. But desire was a word she had carefully avoided. There had been times since coming to the cabin that she had felt stirrings toward him, but she had pointedly disregarded them. First out of respect to Rebekah, but mostly because Elise feared any emotional attachment to a man. She convinced herself those “stirrings” were merely physical anyway, nothing to truly fear unless they became deeper.
Yet what might happen in a month? A year? Ten years? How many times had participants in arranged marriages heard the juncture, “You will grow to love each other.” That could not happen to her. She would not let it.
Well, she thought wryly, perhaps he will just revert to his old ways and I will become disgusted with him again.
She welcomed the fact that for the next hour she had more places to spend her energy than in fearsome thoughts. Though Elise had given little consideration to the ceremony itself, Mrs. Hunter had no intention of letting something so wonderful as a wedding be entered into unobtrusively. As soon as she deemed Father Murphy had been properly refreshed from his journey, she shooed the men outside so preparations could be made.
Elise hadn’t given thought to making the wedding an
occasion
. She had supposed it would be a simple affair, just enough of a ceremony to make it legal before man and God. Benjamin’s comment earlier about it just being legal indicated he had the same line of thinking. But Mrs. Hunter’s enthusiasm was contagious. Besides, even if this marriage would entail no physical joining, it was still a marriage. And . . . well, what woman, even an ex-slave prostitute, didn’t want her wedding day to be special?
Elise found yet another reason for this to be made into an occasion when Mrs. Hunter asked about Elise’s wedding attire. Elise merely shook her head dumbly. What she was to wear simply had not occurred to her, but Isabel had apparently given it much thought. She took an item from the trunk that was wrapped in a sheet.
“This was my mama’s best dress,” the child said, carefully lifting away the covering.
She held it up as high as her little arms would reach, a lovely gown of Chinese green moiré silk. Its
revers
neckline was of forest green velvet. The full sleeves tapered snugly from mid forearm and were trimmed with velvet. That same rich green velvet also belted the full skirt and made a trim around the lower skirt, a band from which velvet leaves hung regally. Though perhaps a few years behind the latest fashions, it was a gown worthy of any Elise had seen in New Orleans.
Since coming to the cabin, Elise had worn only the brown dress she had first taken from the trunk, alternating it with her own clothes, which, though shabby, had washed up and were still serviceable. She had been careful not to trespass upon the trunk again. Tears rose in her eyes as the child held the gown out as an offering.
Emotion clutching her throat, she couldn’t speak. She merely shook her head.
Isabel said softly, “Please take it, Elise. When you marry Papa, you’ll be my new mother. I know it is a very special occasion.”
“Oh, dear Isabel! I don’t ever want to take your mother’s place.”
“I think she would have chosen you,” Isabel said with such simple confidence, it brought a lump to Elise’s throat.
Tears streaming from her eyes, Elise took the dress, laid it on the trunk, then wrapped her arms around Isabel. “I do love you!” She kissed Isabel’s downy soft yellow curls.
“S-so, you will wear the dress?” Isabel asked through her own tears.
“If it will make you happy.”
And thus Elise realized there needed to be a celebration today for the children’s sake, especially for Isabel and Micah, even if Micah showed outward disdain for the entire matter. The children had no concept of the unconventional aspect of the marriage. To them, their father was getting married to a woman who would now become part of their lives—a permanent part. They needed a point of reference by which they could know this was a solemn, serious commitment.
Perhaps for the same reason she needed it herself. Because of her sullied past, she needed it to be clear for her own sake that she was entering this marriage commitment with all earnestness.
As these things dawned upon her, Elise’s concept of her wedding changed dramatically. It must be a celebration, as festive as possible. She wished she would have realized this a few days ago when she had agreed to the marriage so that better plans could have been made. She also knew that all the children had to be a part of it—especially Micah.
Elise suddenly became animated. There were a million things to do!
“Mrs. Hunter, would you mind the babies while Isabel and I tend to a few arrangements?”
“I’ll be most happy to.” The woman seemed to pick up on the new level of excitement. “Perhaps I can even take an iron to that dress while you’re gone.”
“Thank you so much. We shouldn’t be long.” She grabbed a basket and gave it to Isabel. “Isabel, would you gather all the wild flowers you can find? Stay close to the cabin. We haven’t time to wander far.”
They went outside, and as Isabel set about her assigned task, Elise turned to the three men who were standing idly talking.
“Benjamin,” she said approaching the men with purpose, “there is going to be a slight delay.”
“What?” He blanched, no doubt thinking she’d had a change of heart.
“I’ve been amiss in my casual view of this wedding,” she explained, taking him aside. “No matter our reasons for marrying, we
are
getting married, and I feel it must be treated with dignity. We must stand proudly before God and our children, not slink to a makeshift altar as if we were somehow ashamed of what we are doing.” When Benjamin continued to stare in dumbfounded silence, Elise added, “I know this is sudden. I just realized it myself. But I know it is the right thing.”
“Well . . . uh . . . of course.”
She could see his Adam’s apple work spasmodically as he swallowed a couple of times.
“What should I do?”
“You need to dress in your best suit,” she answered without hesitation. “Why don’t you do that while I see to another matter.”
She hurried away toward the creek. She had discovered that Micah had a little retreat set back from the shore amongst several large rocks. She had stumbled upon him accidentally one day, and since he had not seen her, she had remained silent about it. She hated to intrude now but was determined to talk to him. When she neared the rocks, she made noise and called his name, then turned away from the retreat so he still might not know it had been discovered. She thought a boy like Micah needed his privacy. In a few minutes, she heard him move in the brush and turned.
“Oh, there you are, Micah!”
He just scowled in response.
“Can I talk with you?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“It’s about the wedding—“ she began.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut in sharply.
“I know this isn’t easy for you, though I don’t pretend to know all the reasons that might be in your heart. I’m sure your grief at your mother’s loss is still very great. And I know that for some reason you are angry at your father.” She paused and tried to walk closer, then stopped when he tensed, fearing he might bolt. “I’m not asking you to give up your pain. I know it would be too hard for you to do that right now. I have pain, too, and so does your father. This wedding doesn’t mean we are going to instantly forget it all. But you are old enough to understand that life must proceed despite our pain. Your brother and sisters and my Hannah need a proper family. Please try to understand—that is why your father and I are doing this, not because we in any way want to forget your mother.”
“It’s easy enough to say,” he muttered.
“Yes, I suppose it is. What can I do to convince you otherwise?”
Ignoring her query, he said, “I don’t care if you marry my father. And I sure don’t care what he does.”
“Then why won’t you come to the wedding?”
“No one will miss me anyway.”
“That’s not true!” She paused, not sure how to proceed, how to make him believe his presence was important. She uttered a silent prayer for wisdom before continuing. “Micah, I would like to invite you to my wedding as
my
friend. You may sit on the bride’s side.”
He cocked a wary brow at her, and she nearly smiled. He certainly hadn’t expected this tactic. No doubt he thought she would try to make him attend out of love and respect for his father. To leave Benjamin out altogether—well, she could see in his eyes that it put the entire matter into a new light. Micah had nothing against her. He had even been friendly toward her in the last weeks.
“I’ll think about it,” he said finally.
“We’ll be ready in about an hour.” She turned and walked up the bank back to the cabin.
E
XACTLY ONE HOUR LATER EVERYONE
gathered in the cabin. Elise had considered holding the ceremony outside, but it started to sprinkle, forcing them indoors.
John and Nell Hunter stood as best man and matron of honor. Nell held Hannah and John held a very wiggly Leah. Elise thought it quite apropos that instead of flowers, her matron of honor held a child.
Isabel, dressed in a white cambric muslin dress trimmed with pink braiding, was a sweet flower girl. She carried a nosegay of freshly picked bluebells, lilies, and Indian paintbrush. At Elise’s insistence, Oliver was also present, but it was Benjamin who held him. This, too, seemed quite fitting. Even with his tiny son in his arms, Benjamin cut a dashing figure. He surprised everyone when he appeared not in the broadcloth frock coat and trousers he wore on the circuit, but rather in a fashionable—at least ten years ago—tan linen suit, with cutaway coat and pinstripe trousers, black waistcoat, cream shirt, and black silk cravat. The suit emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist and nearly made Elise forget what this marriage was all about.
As the wedding party lined up, Elise glanced several times toward the door, despairing that Micah would not come. Father Murphy cleared his throat and opened his prayer book.
